Chapter 10: Windshift: Piracy, Witches, and Perfect Timing

"Wendy?" he asked.

"Boatman," she replied.

"You're a ... a ... mermaid?"

"No." She grinned. "I'm a seawitch ... if you want to call it that."

"What else would you call it?"

"A Clean water-witch."

"Clean?"

"Yup ... that's the reason I didn't change in the harbor ... disgusting filthy water in there."

"Oh."

"Can you imagine my gills opening in that ... shit?" She frowned. "My lungs would be full of turds in a second. I need to conjure up a storm and clean it out."

The idea of a seawitch who wasn't full of shit boggled his mind.

The tow was ... fractious ... for lack of a better word. The hull was riding higher all the time as the crew worked the pumps. As the seawater went overboard, there was less resistance. The missing rudder (it was hung from pintles and fell off when the boat capsized.) meant the hull had a tendency to zig-zag. Eventually, the drunken stagger made the turn into the harbor. The wharf was long enough to take both boats.

Boatman had to supply lines and fenders for both hulls. EVERYTHING was simply gone from the rescued hull ... an embarrassment of people but nothing else. Since evening was falling, very little could be done in the dark ... the questions could be asked in the harbormasters quarters or wait til morning. Morning sounds better than working late.

Tropical islanders don't have to WORK. The teens at the beach were playing a game called 'treenuthunt.' Very little was poisonous, dangerous or deadly ... the boys ... and girls, gathered ... tree nuts today ... sun fruit tomorrow ... sweet-reeds had been done yesterday. But it wasn't work ... it was 'game.' Sure, things got taken home, cooked and eaten, but it was fun. The only work was trying to impress the opposite gender. That was work!

Everyone shared. For a lesson in patience you couldn't do better than watching the oldest boys go fishing. I guess you could call the little watercraft they used 'log canoes' but not really.

They weren't dugouts but they were made by splitting logs into planks, 'steaming' the planks and bending the hot planks into shape between strategically placed blocks of volcanic rocks. After the planks dried the girls would 'sew' the boat together with twine made from the long stalk fibers of a local bushy plant.

This was the tropics. The planks dried quickly. The branches of same bushy plant yielded naturally bent 'ribs' of great strength. The ribs were slid into place along the shaped hull. Since the bushy plant had a great many branches growing U shaped along a central trunk, eventually, the boat builder found one that fit.

A series of holes were burned through the planks and ribs with grooves between the holes and the rib and plank were stitched together. The inside of the little hull was sealed with pitch from the brushy plant.

The outside was roughly shaped with coral blocks used as sanders. The craft was dragged through damp coral sand for a nice finish.

Then the same fibers from the bushy plant were shredded, mixed with the pitch and hammered into the gaps between the planks.

Experience knew how to shape the planks ... experience knew how hot the planks had to be to keep from cracking. The children learned from older children. Everyone got along. No one was rushed or pushed. It was simple ... you didn't have to do anything.

You just didn't eat if you didn't help ... if you managed to get older, you didn't get laid.

There were exceptions ... there always are. Some youngsters are loners. They were the ones searching for 'new' things. Generally, they found a new plant, good fresh water or a pretty rock. Some times they found caves with marvelous things inside.

The older teens made elastic powered fish spears and dove the shallows for medium sized fish.

The girls wove circular nets with weights along the outside edge and a 'pulley line' attached to the net. the nets were spun and thrown out over schools of smaller fish. The weights sunk the net, the pull rope made a globe around the fish. The too small escaped through the holes in the net.

Metal made some tasks easier ... but metal was found off shore. The deeper the water, the more metal.

What was not understood were the legends. Once this planet had much land and heavy deep ice caps. There was a moon, tides, farms, mines, industry, many millions of people all crowded together in pushy cities. There were bosses, police, armies, navies, great metal planes that roamed the skies. Everyone wanted more and more and more. More land. More power. More money.

'What is mine is mine, what is yours will be mine.'

There were wars, rumors of wars, street gangs, militias.

Government decided the moon was a great storehouse of metal. National resources were spent on science and ideas ... all to be the first to get to the moon and mine it.

Eventually ... they got there. The moon was mined to a nubbin and then the nubbin was shipped to the planet. The weight of the moon on the planet changed things, the planet moved closer to the star they called the sun. Without the pull of the moon the planetary orbit became circular. Without the pull of the moon, the planet lost it's seasonal tilt.

The ice began to melt.

Civilization is a weird thing. Oceans, rivers, waterways are dangerous places, but water is the very best way to transport goods. The cities sprang up close to the transport. Usually, there's not that much difference between land level and sea level ... if you're relying on water for transport of heavy goods, a small difference between sea and land is a good thing ... until the sun is too hot, the ice melts and there's no difference between sea and land. Great wailing and gnashing of teeth. Rich men became poor overnight.